In Mandarin, the same sounding words can mean a million other things due to the vast number of chinese characters… tu zi could mean anything, but to me I only knew rabbit.

Clearly Devondale Milk isn’t from rabbits so I told her no… She thanked me profusely and walked away with her husband, insisting she was right the first time. My heart sank…

I did not know what on earth she was on about

I answered her

She was happy with my answer

I messed up so much but I didn’t know how to say that in Mandarin

I’m of Chinese descent. Born in Melbourne raised in Malaysia and speaking only English at home. My parents don’t know Mandarin themselves. I went to a Chinese school in Malaysia as my parents didn’t want me to repeat their mistakes of not knowing Mandarin, but ever since moving back to Melbourne… the need for me conversing in Mandarin has reduced and eventually I’ve lost it altogether.

It hit me with a realization walking back from the supermarket

Seeking advice from people who seemingly look like they know it… isn’t right. Representation isn’t everything.

She came to me because of my looks. I’m Asian. I’m meant to know and understand what she is on about. I even thought I did. I clearly did not.

It made me realize that in real life, when I’m seeking people for answers in terms of my spriritual walk or just life in general, they can perceive to know it all, did all the right things… but do they know it. Is it even right.

The importance of picking the right mentor is so important. We could end up in very different paths with the choices we make, either we ended up feeling inspired or driven, or completely confused and down the hill from where we started.

Just making my rabbit milk experience applicable to real life. It just made me realize how much I need to pray and seek God during this process of finding a mentor in my life. I do need one and I want one. As much as seeking God for advice is nice, my peers advising me on things that I find it relatable, it would be nice if someone older than me who has that actual wisdom I can learn from is present. Someone other than my parent, someone I know that she/he will be right and be on my side. My peers are lovely and I love them to bits, but as much as our experiences are relatable and we can share it with each other, we are of the same generation and we can only know so much.

My Contract law exam is tomorrow, last night… in the midst of panicking and onset exam anxiety (that I still sometimes suffer after years of exams), I procrastinated (like a true student) and discovered that Pancake Parlour’s postcode deal has finally reached me.

It’s a deal where if you live in a particular post code area, you get free food. Free Food. Well just a short stack.

Thing though, there was a catch. It’s from 11pm-6am only. Clearly, when everyone is asleep so chances of wasting precious flour on freebie suckers (like me) is slimmer.

Can I just say, this isn’t my first time freebie hunting/sucking from Pancake Parlour, it’s like the only/closest thing we get to an American 24hr diner besides our drive-through Maccas (McDonalds) and the only place generous enough to accomodate people like me. Currently it’s summer here down under and during the days it hits 30 degrees, you’re entitled freebies before 11.59pm of the day. Days like these, the freebie suckers will be unleashed from within the community and you’ll see PP flocked and flooded with them that you have to queue for seats, because it’s the only time they really get business (or not). I was (obviously) present for most of these freebie deals, along with almost 7-8 of my other friends, who would hog a 10 seat table at the place till midnight, eating/drinking our freebies and leave paying 0 dollars like a true freebie sucker. Shameless.

However, these friends don’t live in my postal code area and the deal hours are so awkward. None of my friends are morning people either and everyone has day jobs so staying late wasn’t an option.

After 15 minutes worth of snooze and contemplation, I decided to proceed with my absurd decision and changed my clothes. I had mentioned this to my mum earlier before I slept but it was such an absurd idea she didn’t even bother responding. To wake her and wait for her, the deal would end, so I grabbed my keys, wallet and Contract Law book and left.

This was the time I arrived. 0 cars in the parking lot. The only inhabitants in the building was 1 chef and a 15 year old looking waitress. This is a stark contrast to all the freebie nights I’ve been at this place.

The waitress asked me if I’d like to start with a coffee. I went straight to the short stack order because there’s 28 minutes left to my deal and I wasn’t going to pay 16 bucks for pancake at 6am in the morning.

But then she returned later after putting in my order and asks, “Are you sure you don’t want me to get you anything to drink?”

Usually I would say no. I’m stingy that way and 7/11 $1 coffees are the way to go for me. But this was the first time I was freebie sucking alone and for some reason, walking out paying absolute zero without my friends was just..baad. So I ordered a latte. I broke my freebie sucking streak coz I felt bad for the waitress working a nightshift and serving a freebie sucking 22 year old.

The girl made some pretty good coffee. I guess I gave her something to do. Then came the world’s longest 2 minutes of my life.

It is bigger than you think. On a regular basis, I would share this (I’m a small eater). But clearly I have no one to share with and to leave my plate half finished is a let down to the freebie sucking community, I mean have the decency to finish what you’ve been blessed with.

I didn’t let down. This is the fastest I’ve finished such a plate, or meal even. I’m like always the last to finish. Then again, I had no one to distract but just me, myself and I.

Tradies were trickling into the place by 5.45am and I was no longer alone. I had 10 minutes left before my deal ends so I decided to go to the counter and pay/redeem my offers.

Guess what, I couldn’t find the offer because Facebook decided to fail on me when I needed it at the counter when it was fine just 10 minutes earlier while I was browsing it on my table.

Waitress asked me for $16. Shucks, 16 bucks for flour and eggs is like food pooped out of royal hens.

Thank God for grace, I told her about the deal and you know what… she actually gave the pancakes free for me. She didn’t even look at my ID to check my postcode. OMG. To be honest, she didn’t even know which postcode had the deal was on. I swear I could’ve been any other lying freebie scum (but I’m not). So I paid $4 for the coffee. It was good coffee but honestly the price was just so hiked I would’ve never ordered it any other day.

The road was still clear like as though my grandfather owned it. I even slowed down to take a shot.

This is so illegal on so many levels so kids don’t do this when you start driving. Though I must say I’ve done a complete stop in the middle of the road once last year while Pokemon Hunting (the levels of insanity right there), not just any road but Doncaster freakin Road (same road as above), that was at like 12am though. Also, a clear road with nobody. Joyrides.

I officially ended my lone pancake adventures the exact time the deal ended.

It made me now question if I’m really a morning or a night person. I mean really now…

If anyone were to ask me what is the craziest thing you ever did?

Freebie sucking at Pancake Parlour at 5.30am. Alone.

I need a boyfriend who is willing to do absurd crap like this with me because we’ll either not get along or it’d be absolute fun ahaha..

The glut for the past 2 weeks has been very real, I had to take digestion pills during the weekend in Singapore due to consuming more food than I can digest. The torture I put myself through was crazy and I didn’t stop, I even bought myself a bottle of pills to prepare for the next bout of food.

I mean I flew 8 hours up here not for nothing.

I’m currently in Malaysia, the land I spent my childhood and early teens in. Compared to my many trips down in the past since moving to Melbourne, I was able to reconnect with my middle school friends and going to Singapore to meet with my high school friends.

It is no secret to those who knew me before Australia that I was a skinnier, much slimmer, much fitter girl. I had put on a total of 10kgs post-KL and I have been nowhere near to going back to the original 47kg self in 2010.

However, this holiday, the glut has been so real. The food has been amazing and the prices were so cheap and I couldn’t help myself. My middle school friend had just returned from her UK studies for good, so I spent the last few days just catching up with her and being the ultimate Groupon buddy (as well as luxury window shopping things I cannot afford).

She found a free slimming deal.

It’s freeeeee..she says, and she would do it with me. (She is 160cm, under 50kgs, clearly doing it for the fun of it).

I wouldn’t pay to do something like this, never. But I was always curious with what was involved. My mum mentioned to me that she tried it once post-pregnancy but it doesn’t work at all and is fully gimmicks. But I could try it out for myself if I wanted, it was free after all. Surrounded by blunt Asian family and friends, being told I am ‘much meatier’ than before can be over-bearing, this should be harmless.

So, I will now narrate this adventure.

ConsultationI knew that the slimming centres giving out free treatments was too good to be true, these places sell packages for thousands of bucks. “Proven results” banners are everywhere. It was cheap treatment and it wasn’t a 1 day job, people sign up packages for months.

The consultant gave me a horrified glare when I told her I was only here for 2 weeks in KL and that I was from Melbourne. She still tried to hard-sell me a RM4000 package, saying that I could “come in everyday and will go back to the pre-Melbourne weight” i call bullshit.

She asked me for my ‘target areas’. Tummy… only, I replied. She made me take off my top.

So this is how they hard sell and guilt trip fat people. I told you only tummy. Thanks for telling me I’m an all-around fatass.

I insisted that I will begin with the free 1st treatment first to decide. 1stly, I couldn’t afford (I didn’t tell her because I wanted my free session), 2ndly… what if it’s some stupid gimmick I would sell myself into.

Steam-RoomWas told it is meant to open up my body pores (what for).

Firstly, I felt like dying. It’s like a sauna, much hotter, much stuffier. I felt like being dumped in a kettle. Next to my cubicle was a fat lady going through her paid package.

Secondly, I can’t breathe. My nostrils burned as I breathed, thank God they provided me a towel for me to breathe through or I would’ve died or be diagnosed with burnt nostrils for life.

Thirdly, I don’t see the purpose. It was a steam room, the lady told me I will sweat. I was wet all over 10 seconds into the 10 minutes I was in there, I swear 90% of moisture on me during the whole duration was the steam, 10% sweat (but I doubt it).

Suffocating Torture. Why fat ladies WHY.

PicturesMade me strip and take photos of my fat self. (for before and after effects… they didn’t know I wasn’t coming back) While taking my photos and measuring the diameters of my fats, slimming lady discovers I could speak and understand Mandarin.. immediately stops bitching about my friend and I in Mandarin.

“I thought you guys were English educated….” she says. Well, you didn’t ask for my primary school did you ey?

Lavender ScrubI feel no scrub. What scrub. Slimming lady just slathered 50% oil and 50% water misture on my body… “preparing for the next step” she says…”scrub is to remove dead skin”…

There was no scrub… so no dead skin was removed.

Hot Blanket
With 50% oil mixture still on me.. she made me lie on a sheet of plastic. Next thing I knew was me being wrapped in plastic, a heavy blanket wrapped around me… I was marinated meat.

“20 minutes…” she said, and left me there to marinated.. in the room.. alone.

20 minutes felt like 20 hours. Worst 20 minutes of my life.

About 5 minutes in I felt like cooked meat. I felt the mixture and I swear by this moment, I confirmed that the mixture was probably 80% water, 20% oil and lavender smell was artificial as fart.

I was boiling meat.

At 12 minutes in, I knew I was dying. I don’t know why women put these people in business. oh my goodness it made me miss hot pilates… A LOT.

God saved me, I discovered an emergency button. I managed to squirm my arms out of my boiling burrito sack of marination and press it. Slimming lady came it, told me “8 more minutes” (that’s how I knew I was 12 minutes in).. and ditched me again.

Was apparently not well cooked enough. (Purpose of that procedure was apparently to “increase blood circulation”.. more like “increase chances of death”)

ShowerTo wash of my marinate

Fat BurnerHAHAHA I don’t know how to begin this.

Slimming lady lathered on and ampuole to help me “burn my fats”, she lathered them on my fat arms, fat thighs, fat tummy.

2 minutes later, I felt like they were on fire… “Oh they are burning your fat” she says… more like burning my body and the next day I will have no skin.

She then wrapped my fat parts with this wirey stuff that was hooked onto a ‘slimming machine’ that will give out the vibrations to “help stimulate and work your muscles”..

So this is how lazy people exercise… pay thousands of bucks to get their muscles vibrated. oh my goodness.

I slept throughout the vibration session. I don’t know if anything was activated. If anything, my muscles were relaxed and this was the best part of the session. I slept.

Conclusion

Please. Don’t. Go.

I don’t understand why women do it. Yea it may have worked if you attended 50 times of that, but it’s all a marketing business gimmick. Proven results can come after maybe 1 year and over thousands of dollars wasted. I recommend hot pilates.

The atrocious fact was they actually wanted my dangerously skinny friend to sign up so that she can ‘prevent herself from getting fatter’. Are you kidding, she needs to put on weight.

Yes. I know I do occasionally suffer from self-esteem body image issues especially when being surrounded by old friends who remind me of my old shape. This time I took a step too far, but it was free.

I treated it as an adventure. Solely for the experience. But if I had really been engrossed in my body-image and if I really was my old self before Jesus, I probably would have signed up (and get scolded by my parents in the process). Honestly, it can be quite easy to fall-victim to these stuff, that’s why they’re still in business. (many ladies were going through their paid treatment while I was going through my free one).

Why? Because the outside world can be over-bearing. It will be a lie if I told you it never affected me. It would be a lie if I told you that I didn’t feel anything when the slimming centre told me I was too fat.

The commercial world is out there to really hard sell stuff to us based on our flaws. I swear I only read this on the media, but yesterday was my first-hand experience of being marketed based on my flaws.

I’m sorry but regardless of my weight. If I exercise and lose weight in the process, that is God’s blessing, if not, I’ll be the way God wants me to be. I don’t know why women would pay to go through semi-death, please invest them in a good body massage (much cheaper too) if you have that much money.

“Hey hun, do you wanna do back of house dressing and not all this shit?”

I was on the 3rd floor of Melbourne Town Hall, clearing up the racks and packing boxes of all the thousands of dollars worth of designer wear that had been on the previous shows. The way the items were treated, for the amount they’re worth, they should be heavily discounted once they’re back in store.

It was murky and dim, because Town Hall is like this few hundred year old heritage building that no one bothers to fix up properly but willing to pay thousands in rent because of it’s rich history. I was sweating heaps and when the offer came up, it was too good to refuse.

I followed the stylist to the HUB where the show was held. I had no idea which show I was dressing for until I saw PETER JACKSON emblazoned on the runway. what the..

I kept my cool and went backstage. Suits everywhere, every colour, every style. The stylist (who I swear is gay) gave me my instructions.

“The zips and buttons have to be unbuttoned and unzip so you can pop him straight into his second outfit right away, you’ll be pressed for time. Make sure the fly is zipped.”

What

I am dressing a male.

Omg I’m (trying to be) a good Christian girl and here you are asking me to dress a male.

I speak whale even better than male.

What am I doing. I thought I was doing the Alannah Hill show. What is this. Alannah Hill is tomorrow omg.

So I continued to keep my cool and nodded to gay stylist 1 as he continued his instructions with the others.

Then the models walked in.

Omg when did God create such beautiful people. How come. Why. When.

When I see above average people at events or walking on the street, I do my best to avoid because I’m so shy and I blush more then I talk, avoiding is so much better. Now I’m in a room with like 15 of them. What. Six packs everywhere.

I couldn’t fangirl, they weren’t Bieber, but they were too good to not fangirl either. But I was there for a job and I had to keep a straight face. omg my insides had like 10 ferris wheels doing 100 km/h spins.

What’s worse, during rehearsals my head felt so light and I had to close my eyes for a bit to get going.

I texted my friends and sent them sneaky snaps, every girlfriend I know was envious of my position and here I was with almost-going-to-faint feelings. I was continuously snapping and chatting to keep me from fainting. everything is okay.

I didn’t know if my feelings were because of too much good-looking genes in a room or the lack of oxygen. I always thought they were a figure of speech but my head-spin was real.

Nonetheless, God pulled me through. Gay stylists 1,2,3,4 had to come in and help a few other fumbly girls to dress the models. I dressed my model who was probably semi-pissed at me for doing things a bit too slow (later found out he’s actually semi-famous and has done many runways, so I’m quite crap). Sorry Shayne it’s my first time and I am a good Christian girl who hits boys more than dressing them so please sorry not sorry, i’m not zipping you, zip yourself.

No, I didn’t say that aloud but I did make him zip himself. I only buttoned/unbuttoned him and that’s it. I did saw some thirsty as girls zipping and unzipping the other models but omgoodness I can’t, I’m already fainting.

Anyways, fashion week shenanigans over and I’m back to my normal self. I don’t know if I’ll be dressing men anytime soon but after that show I’d say I’m pretty confident with suit styling and everything else but zip your pants moves.

So that’s the story of how I got myself a Peter Jackson back of house position.

“Time flies when you are stressed and procrastinating at the same time”

So I’ve officially completed 2 midsemester tests this week (did my second one today) and the 5th week of uni madness is over. Friday’s going to be good tomorrow (Good Friday) and bring on the long weekend and mid-semester break! Which will be filled with kids church planning and uni work catch ups. Nonetheless, bring on the Easter holidays!!

If you don’t know me, I’m a professional procrastinator. Especially when I’m flooded with Mid-Sem tests to cram or assignments due. Everything else but those things seem to be extra interesting and all your friend’s conversations get extra juicy too. It’s just a mentality set but omgosh it gets me every time!

So this week, I’ve got some hilarious finds well I think it’s funny.. So here are some of them
(some were beyond the week but extremely post-worthy)

iMessage group chat with my parents during my lecture. The first few was my mum and the last one was by my dad

As seen on my University’s stalker Facebook pagewhich I stalk all the time because it’s meant to be stalked… don’t judge. I sincerely believe it’s the secret to why we’re the top university in Australia, these people make us amazing stress-relievers okay…

Conversations with my friends that were too gold to be just scrolled past #worthkeeping

sai = poop in hokkien

Also, discovered this image on Facebook yesterday and I found it incredibly relatable

because

reasons why the mental hospital reference is accurate because we are. Sending big fat love hearts to my friends because you guys keep me sane in this crazy world, they keep me from being admitted to the psych ward. Oh I shouldn’t forget God and the fam too ❤

Also some shameless promotion of one of my bestfriend’s cousin’s new show Make It Pop. It just premiered in the US but yet to screened over here down under. If you would like to relive the days of your childhood or you’re not over the old tween shows like iCarly, Shake it Up, Hannah Montana, etc… this is the show to watch. Here’s an interview of her with Pacific Rim, kudos to her for identifying herself as Malaysian Chinese! It’s really rare of our kind to appear in the showbiz world and I couldn’t be more proud to have someone like her representing us! Big love hearts to Erika Tham!

Also, welcoming another one of my bestfriends into the blogging world!